Driving the Mille Miglia

So what it is like to drive a 1953 Alfa Pininfarina-bodied 1900 C Sprint for 2000 kilometers?

The 1900 was an expensive car in its day (though not as expensive as a Ferrari). At a time when many Italians were happy to have a Vespa as their prime means of mechanical locomotion, and owning a small Fiat seemed to many a luxury, a car like the 1900 Sprint was the king of the road.

Compared to the slightly younger Alfas that I have driven, it feels large. It is fairly comfortable (although the seats offer no lateral support—fortunately Stefan had had custom lap-only seatbelts installed, or in hard cornering the passenger might have been thrown all over the place). The suspension is much more supple than on a modern car. As a result, it soaks up bumps far better, which is important, given the uneven surface of some of Italy’s B- and C-class roads. The car does lean when cornering, but this was typical of sporting cars in the past; those of us with 105/115-type Spiders may recall that with the original stock suspension, these cars leaned too in corners. The body roll, however, does not prevent high-speed cornering; Stefan, who really knows his car, made this abundantly clear when he drove the leg on the third day up and down the Abetone Pass. Especially when coming down, Stefan hustled the car around corners at speeds that I never would have dared to try, and yet he never once squealed the tires.

And those tires? Barely thicker than bicycle tires, compared to the rubber on modern cars. And yet the car handled well. One needs only not to expect it to corner flat. The body roll is, in fact, a safety feature, as it is progressive and gives drivers plenty of leeway before losing grip.

Alfa 1900s came in a number of mechanical iterations, including some with hotter cams and dual carburetors. The Pininfarina 1900 has a single carburetor (a Solex on Stefan’s car), and the output is at the low range for 1900s. Yet the engine would rev fairly easily past 3000 rpm and toward 5000, which helped considerably in passing maneuvers.

The transmission is a four-speed with a column-mounted shift. Like all other Alfa gearboxes I have driven, it does not like to be hurried. Unlike all other Alfa gearboxes I have driven, one does not need first to move the gear lever partly (or fully) into second in order to be able to shift into first. Given a choice, I certainly prefer the more direct linkage in a floor-mounted gear lever (on a traditional front-engine, rear-wheel drive drivetrain), but the setup on the Pininfarina 1900 works well for gran turismo driving.

Neither the steering nor the brakes are power-assisted. This was hardly a concern with the steering, as the wheel is large, the ratio slow enough, and the car light enough, that only in tight, stand-still maneuvers is any excess arm and shoulder effort necessary.

The brakes are large aluminum drums all around, seriously vented in front (the contemporary Ferraris in the event did not have vented drums, reminding me of Enzo Ferrari’s disdain for Jaguar’s pioneering disk brakes; Ferrari is supposed to have said something to the effect that his drivers press on the accelerator pedal and not on the brake pedal). In the 1950s and early 1960s, Alfa Romeo was famous for its excellent drum-brake setups. While it took me a little while to get used to the feel of the 1900’s floor-mounted pedals, once I did, I found that (at least in the dry) I could use the brakes with great confidence. The unassisted brakes required pushing hard on the pedal, but they slowed and stopped the car in a hurry. There would be a bit of twitching in the rear under heavy braking, which may have been a result of uneven adjustments to the drums, but it was easy to control. On our one rainy day, we were careful to avoid sudden or heavy braking, but even then, it was easy to feel if the car’s rear were lightening up, and the steering made it easy to control it.

Another area where the 1953 car exceeds modern cars is in outward visibility. From the driver’s seat, one sees the front of the car, and visibility in all directions is terrific.

At one point, I queried what would be the ideal car for the Mille Miglia Storica. One needs a gran turismo car that offers both some creature comfort as well as stability on the larger, high-speed roads. But one also wants the nimbleness of a sports car for the most twisty sections. We agreed that, among 1950s cars, Giulietta Sprints and Porsche 356s would be prime contenders, offering both comfort and agility. However, unless it is a very special Giulietta Sprint or 356, the chances of being approved for the Mille Miglia are slimmer than for rarer cars, like Stefan’s 1900.